


your memory's got a map of my mind

by istalria



Series: i swear i only fell for you on accident [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Post-Canon, one-night stands, that turn into multiple-night stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istalria/pseuds/istalria
Summary: This is a one-time thing, Allison had gasped into his mouth as they collided with the door to her suite.Obviously, he’d said, voice uneven.or: Allison tries very, very hard not to repeat a mistake (spoiler alert: she fails).
Relationships: (background), Kevin Day/Allison Reynolds, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: i swear i only fell for you on accident [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759423
Comments: 25
Kudos: 121





	your memory's got a map of my mind

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy, lovelies!

South Carolina thunderstorms are always at their worst in the summer, but even the rare fall storms are brutal.

Allison hates rain. Specifically, she hates being trapped at the court while the rain outside rages too fiercely to drive back to the dorms.

“Maybe we can make a break for it,” Nicky says hopefully. “I think it’s lightening up.”

Right on cue, a crash of thunder rolls through the foyer.

“Uh.”

“Great,” Aaron says without looking up from his phone. “You jinxed it.”

“Did not.”

“Will you go get Neil already?” Kevin says to Andrew. “He’s going to get electrocuted if he stays in the shower.”

“Not my problem,” Andrew says.

“Andrew.”

“Kevin.”

“Nicky,” Nicky interjects, and Kevin glares at him.

Andrew rolls his eyes from his spot on the floor. If he were anyone else, it would be comical how tiny he looks, staring Kevin down with his legs folded beneath him.

“He’s not deaf,” he says. “He can hear the thunder. If the idiot wants to get himself electrocuted, that’s on him.”

“Touching,” Aaron mutters.

“I’ll go let him know,” Matt says before Kevin can respond. He disentangles himself from Dan on the couch, and Allison steals his spot as he disappears into the men’s locker room.

“Thanks a lot, Kevin,” she says. “This is super fun.”

He sputters, and Allison very determinedly keeps her eyes on her nails. “How is this _my_ fault?”

“Most things are,” Nicky says, and Allison agrees one hundred percent. She points at him victoriously. 

Dan snorts next to her.

“They’re not wrong,” she says, sounding amused. 

Allison makes the mistake of glancing up as Kevin sweeps a glare across the room. Their eyes meet, and she remembers with sudden clarity why she’d been avoiding his gaze so fervently.

Right. That. The horrible, wonderful, not-quite-drunken mistake she’d made six days ago—not that she’s counting.

_You want to get out of here?_

_Yes._

She’d texted Renee before they even made it out of the club, telling her to keep Dan—and, by extension, Matt—away from their suite. She very carefully didn’t mention who she was bringing home, and Renee didn’t ask, just responded with a confirmation as Allison pushed the speed limit back to Palmetto.

Allison almost wishes she hadn’t had the foresight to keep the others out of the dorm, because then Kevin wouldn’t have spent the night after they collapsed, flushed and panting, into her bed. She’d have had an excuse to usher him out the door like she would any respectable one-night-stand.

Instead, she’d opened her mouth and heard herself say, “You might as well just sleep here, the others won’t be back tonight.”

Kevin just nodded, infinitely more agreeable after two rounds—three, if you counted the rushed groping in the backseat of Allison’s Porsche when they pulled over halfway to the campus—of regrettably excellent sex, then sat bolt upright. 

“Shit,” he said, sliding off the bed and fumbling to locate his pants. Allison didn’t bother to avert her eyes; Kevin Day was undeniably good-looking. It was probably his one redeeming quality.

Along with his talented hands. And a _very_ talented tongue. And—actually, it was probably better if Allison didn’t go down that road. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” she drawled.

Kevin shot a glare over his shoulder as he dug his phone from the pocket of his pants. He tossed them aside before flopping back onto the bed beside her, though, so she guessed his annoyance wasn’t too extreme.

“I didn’t tell Andrew where I was going,” he said, typing what Allison assumed was a message to the heathen in question. “He was my ride.”

“Well, I definitely wouldn’t tell him you’re _here_ ,” Allison said, letting a note of warning creep into her voice. She wasn’t going to let this become a source of gossip for the team; she’d never live it down.

“I’m not an idiot,” Kevin said, tossing his phone to the side. “I just said I went home with someone and that I’ll meet them here when they get back.”

“Great,” she said, rolling over to reach for the lamp. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

Allison knows Kevin’s thinking about it too, if the way his eyes falter over her is any indication. She returns her gaze to her nails and tries very hard not to remember how they’d curled into Kevin’s hair as he mouthed his way down her torso the next morning, right after he’d said _And now we forget this ever happened_ and she’d said _Or we can forget an hour from now_ and he’d kissed her instead of arguing.

“Oh, are we bullying Kevin?” Neil asks, wandering into the foyer with Matt on his heels. Allison’s never been so relieved to see him, not excluding that whole ordeal in Baltimore. “Can I take a turn?”

“Shut up, Neil,” Kevin says, turning away. Neil grins and slides down the wall to sit next to Andrew, their knees bumping as he settles. 

“You didn’t drown,” Andrew remarks, like he’s commenting on the weather.

“Sorry to disappoint. Guess you’ll have to figure out another way to get rid of me.”

Andrew doesn’t smile, but if he hadn’t once forced her to her knees by the back of her neck in the parking lot, Allison would think it was a near thing. 

“Hey,” Matt says, and Allison realizes he’s standing in front of her, hands on his hips. “Get.”

She blinks up at him. “Sorry, am I in your way?”

——————————

Kevin glares at his phone and resists the urge to throw it across the room. His fingers itch for a bottle, and he deeply regrets clearing out his stash of emergency alcohol over the summer. He’s trying to be better, he really is, but sometimes, like when Neil and Andrew decide to throw his plans into disarray with no notice and complete abandon, he’s very, very tempted.

 _Headed to Columbia for the weekend_ , Neil’s text reads. _Will be back Sunday night._

He _knows_ Neil has seen his answering string of messages, but the little asshole is ignoring him. Unless he’s driving, in which case it’s Andrew who’s ignoring him.

Either way, fuck them. Skipping night practice is one thing—one very, very infuriating thing—but tomorrow is Friday. They have _class_. There’s no game—Neil would never miss a game day—but he can’t just blow off classes whenever he and Andrew feel like taking a vacation.

 _Fuck you_ , he types furiously, then throws himself backwards onto his bed. 

He really doesn’t feel like walking to the court, which is possibly the root of his irritation, but he doubts Matt wants to blow off movie night with the girls to take him, which leaves—

No. Kevin’s not going to follow that train of thought. 

Even if Allison was willing to chauffeur him to the court and back—which she definitely wouldn’t be—he’s not about to put himself in an enclosed car with her. His cheeks heat, rather against his will, as he remembers what they got up to the last time they were in her Porsche alone.

So, that’s clearly not workable.

“Neil? Neil, you’d better not be naked in there—”

As though his thoughts had summoned her, Allison sweeps into the bedroom, glancing around like she expects Neil to be hiding under one of the beds.

“He’s not here,” Kevin says. 

Allison gives him a cool look. “Clearly.”

He just nods, praying she leaves without further discussion, but she just drops onto the bottom bunk and rummages through her purse.

“What are you doing?”

She digs a flask out of her bag and holds it up triumphantly. “Drinking. What does it look like I’m doing?”

He ignores the stab of envy as she raises the flask to her lips. He fails to ignore the way her throat moves when she swallows, head tipped back and eyes closed.

“Why are you doing it here?” Kevin says, tamping down his distraction. 

_This is a one-time thing_ , Allison had gasped into his mouth as they collided with the door to her suite.

 _Obviously_ , he’d said, voice uneven.

She shrugs. “Matt and Dan commandeered the dorm.”

“Well, Neil’s in Columbia. He and Andrew took off.”

“Oh no, did they wreck your obnoxiously strict training schedule?”

“Fuck off,” he says, but Allison just smirks and offers him the flask.

Kevin hesitates, and she winces; it’s an unfamiliar expression on her.

“Shit, sorry,” she says, retracting her hand. “Forgot.”

“Oh, just give it here,” he says, because the temptation is very, very strong tonight, and his motivation to go to the court is dwindling by the second.

“You sure?” She’s already holding out the flask, though, so he takes it without comment. Their fingers brush over the metal, and he yanks his hand back, taking a hurried gulp of rum.

Allison laughs at him, and he shoots her a glare as he swipes the back of his hand over his mouth.

“Why were you looking for Neil?” he says, just to shut her up, then adds, “And why’d you think he was naked?”

“His hair is personally offensive and he promised me I could cut it,” she says. “And Nicky said he hadn’t seen him or Andrew for a few hours, and the door was closed, so.”

“And you just walked in anyway?”

Allison huffs. “The door was unlocked.”

“Andrew would murder you.”

“He can try.”

Kevin doesn’t bother to argue. They both know Andrew could probably kill any one of them without much trouble. He remembers Andrew’s collected anger as he forced Allison to the ground, dangerously close to breaking her neck, and the unadulterated rage that left a string of bruises around Kevin’s throat in Baltimore.

He takes another swig of rum and passes the flask back to her.

The silence is heavy, but not uncomfortable. Kevin wonders if Allison feels the same charge in the air or if he’s imagining it.

It was a one-time thing, after all.

“You have anywhere to be tonight?” Allison asks suddenly.

“I was going to practice, but—” he gestures around the bedroom.

Allison considers this for a moment, then stands. “Whatever, I’m bored anyway.”

He assumes that means she’s leaving, but she snaps her fingers impatiently when he doesn’t follow her to the door. “What are you waiting for? Come on. We’re going to the court.”

——————————

Allison had almost forgotten how truly aggravating Kevin is when he's leading these night practices.

“Really, it’s not that hard, every Raven knows this drill backward and forward by freshman year—”

Almost. 

“Shut the fuck up and show me how to do it, then,” she snaps.

Kevin huffs in irritation, but sets his racquet down gently. She’d laugh at the incongruity if she wasn’t so annoyed.

She shouldn’t have offered to practice with him in the first place, but at the time, it seemed a better course of action than staying in the dorms; Kevin was unfairly tempting sprawled across the bed like that. She probably should have just left him to wallow alone, but she had nothing better to do, either, and she really hadn’t considered the fact that they would be just as alone in the stadium as they were in his bedroom.

Allison doesn’t jump when Kevin wraps his hands around her racquet, but she can’t control her full-body twitch. 

“Your form is sloppy,” he says, and she’s abruptly reminded of all the reasons she definitely shouldn’t sleep with him again. He adjusts her hands, leaning into her space, and she forgets every one of them.

“Again.”

She knocks the cone over on her first try, and Kevin doesn’t smile, but the lack of criticism speaks volumes. 

“Better,” he says. “Do it again.”

When Kevin finally calls an end to their impromptu practice, they’re both sweating. Allison, frankly, would have liked to stop about an hour ago, but she’s no quitter, and there’s no way in hell she was going to give up before Kevin did.

Kevin, for his part, looks happier than she ever sees him. “See? If you practiced with us all the time, you’d—”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Day,” she interrupts. “This was a one-time deal.”

She immediately regrets her choice of words. She vividly remembers panting the same promise into Kevin’s mouth on Halloween, and she’s sure he does too.

“I mean, I can barely stand the sight of you at regular practices, there’s no way I’m putting myself through extra ones,” she adds hurriedly.

Kevin laughs, sounding almost relieved, and she knows he was lodged in the same memory. He tugs the hem of his t-shirt up to wipe some of the sweat off his face, and Allison curses viciously in the privacy of her mind, because she really didn’t need the reminder of how good he looks beneath the clothes and condescension.

Allison’s disgusted with herself, honestly. He’s sweaty, for Christ’s sake, there’s absolutely nothing appealing about that, but she can’t peel her eyes away.

“I’m gonna shower,” she says, and escapes into the women’s locker room. 

As she towels off and plaits her hair, she half-heartedly hopes that Kevin will be gone when she emerges, but she knows she’s out of luck before she even steps outside. She drove them here, after all.

“Took you long enough,” he gripes. Allison flips him off without looking and leads the way to her car.

She doesn’t walk him back to his room. She _doesn’t_. The suite he shares with Neil and Andrew happens to be on her way back to her own dorm.

She doesn’t stall when they get there, either, and if she does, it’s only because she’s not quite ready to brave her bedroom when the possibility of walking in on Dan and Matt is still moderately high.

“So,” she says.

“So.”

Allison looks Kevin in the eyes and says, “You wanna make it a two-time thing?”

She’s going to regret this, she thinks as he pulls her into his room, fumbling the door closed behind them. She’s going to wish she never opened her mouth or tugged at Kevin’s shirt until he yanked it over his head or let him press her up against the wall.

“If we’re doing this,” she says, pulling away and relishing in the low groan Kevin lets out, “we need rules, we need to make sure we’re on the same page—”

“Allison,” he says, low and rough, and she mourns the upcoming death of her ability to focus when he yells at her on the court. “Shut up.”

She tries to protest, but he cuts her off with another searing kiss.

“Later,” he mutters into her mouth, and yes, that seems fair, that’s absolutely a better plan than stopping right now.

She’s going to regret this, but she thinks the damage has already been done.

**Author's Note:**

> Hoooo boy. This one got a little longer than I expected, but the next installment (no, I'm not stopping, unfortunately) is shaping up to be even longer >:) 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr at @allisonjamaica if you feel like screaming about aftg (or anything else)!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, and stay fabulous!
> 
> xoxo,
> 
> Istalria


End file.
